In the Interest of Ornithology
by lapsus calami
Summary: A non-plot-altering twist to the Aubrey's trip to Madeira ('The Yellow Admiral').


Title: In the Interest of Ornithology  
  
Summary: A non-plot-altering twist to the Aubrey's trip to Madeira ('The Yellow Admiral').  
  
Dedication: For Wormtail.  
  
Note: This is one of the more family-friendly pieces – yay. No angst, no killing... Just a stupid kid and a doctor. A little something for the fun of it.  
  
Another Note: I did this for fun, right? THE WHY DID I NEED TO DO RESEARCH?! =grumble= I dug out 'A Sea of Words', the little ship diagram at the front of all the books, and my giant dictionary that has the history of Canada. Why do I have to be so obsessed with accuracy? =sigh= Okay, I nearly killed myself writing this (by HAND. Argh, that hurt), so you better review. Nyeh.

* * *

'You, child, are perfectly incorrigible.'  
  
'Yessir. Which I can do anything, with the right'uns telling me I can.'  
  
Doctor Maturin put a finger to the child's brow, where a livid bruise roughly the size of a biscuit was forming. 'Well, Miss Aubrey,' said Stephen, 'I am delighted to inform you that this is the nicest contusion I have ever lied eyes upon.'  
  
'Cor,' breathed Charlotte, quite amazed by her own feat. 'And that's a lot, right?'  
  
'Yes,' replied the doctor, blankly looking through his wares for some comfrey, mostly to pacify the girl's doubtless dependency on old wives' tales. 'That's a lot.'  
  
From what Stephen could tell, Sophie was ordering Jack to turn the ship about immediately, or at least to leave herself and the children at the nearest ort. George, Fanny, and Brigid wasted no time in rooting through Charlotte's things, for this or that coveted possession – just in case. The sailors, Diana, and Clarissa acted as 'though nothing had occurred at all.  
  
Yes, the child was incorrigible, and indeed encouragable, at the same time – at the beck and call of her brother, Charlotte apparently took no hesitation in attempting to climb up her bosun's chair (conveniently rigged above the weatherdeck) to the tops above. Needless to say, the screeches (her own, her brother's, sister's, and her mother's) rang throughout the ship moments later.  
  
Thankfully, Charlotte didn't hit the deck. Rather, she fell to the ocean and banged her head on the taffrail on the way past. Or, at least, she would have, had her foot not caught on one of the lines.  
  
'Now, let's look at that ankle,' said Stephen, after failing to find any daisies in his medicine chest. Charlotte complied, looking comical with her paired bruise and sulky expression. The doctor tutted. 'It'll have to be in a splint,' he told her, 'and no more running about for you.' A low moan told him that there would be great need for checkups quite soon.  
  
'What on EARTH possessed you to be so foolish?' asked Stephen, as he prepared the splint, not really expecting an answer.  
  
'Well,' said Charlotte absently, 'which George DID dare me to do it, that wasn't t'reason. Which Bonden was telling Fanny about the great albatross – there was one up in the tops, sir – and how they was really the souls of dead sailors, an' Fan said that it was pro'lly Bonden's da up there, but he just laughed.' She said all this with amazing rapidity, and took a deep breath before continuing. 'Anyways, I looked up and saw the bird, and remembered 'ow you said they were your favourite, an' I decided to catch one, as my pinafore was too big and I could use it as a net, of sorts.'  
  
Stephen blinked; at first, he merely wondered how someone could talk so fast, but still enunciate so clearly. Then he laughed (Charlotte winced – Stephen's laugh was not particularly pleasant); these Aubrey children were perfectly absurd, but perfectly endearing. 'So, you didn't catch one, then?' he asked, uttering his terrible, hoarse, creaking laugh again.  
  
'No, sir,' Charlotte replied, perfectly solemn.  
  
'Ah,' said Maturin with a smile. 'Well, I daresay I will survive the absence of diomedea exulans. Now, let me see that foot.'  
  
Maturin was actually on the verge of rethinking his general dislike of children as he wrapped the fool girl's ankle, and she went on rapidly about the hoopoe she'd seen in England some time ago, and how surprised she'd been to find it there. Her ramblings, however hasty, were welcome, but adolescence's redemption was shattered when the doctor chose that time to offhandedly remark that her bruise would need a leech to it soon.   
  
Her shriek broke the flow of argument between her parents, caused her siblings to desist squabbling over her possessions, destroyed the former calm that had swept over the seas, and brought a smile to the coxswain's lips.


End file.
